


He's So Pure

by StarrisonGarden



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Fluff, M/M, sort of fluff? maybe? hopefully?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrisonGarden/pseuds/StarrisonGarden
Summary: "Octopus's Garden" is too pure to be anyone else's song; George thinks it speaks for Ringo perfectly, while Ringo is hung up on being called "pure."





	He's So Pure

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I finally decided to join AO3 (you can find me and all of my fics originally on Wattpad!), and I wanted to write something fluffy specifically for AO3 since I've written so much angst otherwise, so this is my first-time-in-probably-a-while-attempt at fluff.
> 
> Plus, not gonna lie, I'm proud to have finally written something totally appropriate for my username. :)
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

He was just inches away from finally touching sleep when he heard soft giggling behind his back. He sighed loudly in defeat, only to hear the giggling again, a bit louder.

“Geo…” The nickname fought its way out of his tired mouth, causing a warm, sleepy puff of air to skid across his folded up arm beneath his head. Louder giggling answered him, and he finally groaned and forced his tired body to roll over and face his lover.

Amused brown eyes met his drowsy blue ones in the bright path of moonlight shining in through the window opposite them and he held back a smile. “What’s so funny?”

He watched as George grinned widely and laughed again, and then sighed and hummed contently when he calmed down again.

“Your song,” George said with a knowing smile.

Ringo blinked, not missing a beat. “Which one?”

George giggled again and tried to resist smiling too mockingly. “Octopus’s Garden.”

“What’s so funny about it?” he asked with a frown. He cursed the offense that crept into his voice without his permission.

George smiled affectionately and shook his head. “It’s beautiful.” He shifted closer to Ringo and brought his hand up to tangle their fingers together. “It’s beautiful and peaceful and pure and full of hope…it makes sense that it’s your song.”

“Why do you say that?” Ringo asked.

“Because it’s just like you, luv.”

A minute of silence passed as he frowned in thought and seemed to lock onto a specific keyword, his frown deepening with genuine confusion. “’Pure’? How am I pure?”

George flashed him an amused smirk. “I don’t mean in bed, you git. I just mean that you do everything with purity. Everything you do matters to you and you never do anything just to do it – it always has some sort of greater purpose.” As realization dawned on him after a beat, he added, “Actually, I guess that sort of applies to you in bed, too.”

Ringo chuckled and moved to tangle their legs together, ankles fit and pressed gently together. “And how’s that?”

He watched George lick his lips in thought before replying, “Well, you don’t usually fuck just to fuck. Most blokes, you know, just fuck for fucking’s sake, ‘cause they’re horny.”

Ringo bit his lip. “Well, I think anyone would be mad not to make love to _you_ ,” he admitted quietly.

George smiled briefly, his eyes searching Ringo’s face all the while. “You know, that’s one reason why I’m glad to be with you, ‘cause you fuck to make love, and if I weren’t with you I think I’d be doing a lot of fucking and nothing like making love.”

Ringo laughed. “’A lot’ of fucking? Even more than _we_ already do?”

George grinned and stuck his tongue out at him before turning serious. “But that’s what makes you pure, luv. You do it for love. And nothing’s more pure than love, right?”

Ringo smiled. He closed his eyes and exhaled in contentment. “Yes, I’d say you’re right.”

“That’s ‘cause I am,” George teased. Ringo opened his eyes and shook his head in amusement.

“You’re terrible, luv.”

He watched George smile before the corners of his lips fell back into place and he became quietly thoughtful.

“That’s why we’re so good together, isn’t it? You’re so pure and I’m naughty enough for both of us, aren’t I?”

Ringo laughed. “I suppose you’re right.” After a few minutes of silence, the natural hypnotism of darkness descending upon the room again, he corrected, “You can be pure, too, luv.”

George scoffed and rolled over onto his back. “Yeah, I _can_ be, maybe. But I’m not,” he said harshly. “Not like you, anyway,” he added wistfully, and reached to move his fingers gently across Ringo’s cheek.

He smiled against the feeling of the guitarist’s rough fingers moving across his skin and noted the way George’s hand moved with his cheek. He wondered if this sort of reaction, rising and falling with almost unconscious movement, was similar to their relationship the way George described it: one had to be yin, the other yang, in order to make their relationship work as it did. This burgeoning insight caused his arm to stretch out across George’s chest as he slid his body forward to curl around George’s.

When he wondered if they really _would_ work, and for how long considering the press could know nothing of their arrangement lest everything go to hell, the one piece of optimism that kept him going was knowing that they _did_ work; they had, and they continued to, and for whatever reason that they’d been brought together, neither expressed the need to be apart.

As he fell asleep feeling freely at peace, fixed securely around his lover, he reasoned that they would always have enough for each other – both good and bad, happiness and unhappiness – with the simple realization that life works as a constant only as long as there’s a need for it.


End file.
